


so pent up (I was coming home to you)

by intherubble



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherubble/pseuds/intherubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah," Baekhyun says through a mouthful of beer as Joonmyun feels a tension headache coming on, "it's a nice place you've got yourself here."</p>
<p>(or: apartment hole!au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	so pent up (I was coming home to you)

**Author's Note:**

> written november 2013 for the first round of [suholiday](http://suholiday.livejournal.com/).

All the boxes are barely through the door before Baekhyun’s flopping on the tiny cheap loveseat and making grabby hands for a beer. Joonmyun would make noise about how everything still needs to be unpacked and boxes broken down but Baekhyun’s already doing him a huge favor out of the kindness of his heart and the promise of a six pack. Most of Joonmyun’s belongings are clothes so there’s not too much weight to them but a four story walk-up is still a lot of stairs.

“Fucking Kyungsoo,” he hears Baekhyun mutter as Joonmyun pops a can out of the plastic ring and tosses it to him. The beers stand stark and alone in the the overly bright fridge that Baekhyun had triple checked was running on their first trip up. “Emergency at work my fucking ass. He’s probably sitting at home in the air conditioning, watering his cacti or something…” The anger slowly drains from Baekhyun as he takes his first sips of lager, stretching to prop his feet on Joonmyun’s new flimsy coffee table.

Joonmyun keeps at sorting boxes, making a stack by the door to his bedroom and one for the kitchen, hoping if he unpacks everything by the next day there'll be a grace period of neatness until it all devolves into the clutter he's used to living in. Baekhyun's eyes are slowly tracing the interior of the room, narrowed and assessing as always. The place isn't much, and the building certainly isn't the type of luxury condominium Joonmyun grew up in, but it's a legitimate one bedroom instead of the studios Joonmyun's realtor kept showing him for his entry level salary. "I don't understand you," Baekhyun muses as Joonmyun finds his box of holiday sweaters and smiles down at them, "if I had rich parents I'd suck that teat dry."

Joonmyun makes a face and chucks a pair of balled up socks at Baekhyun's head, "Stop thinking about my mother's tits."

Baekhyun dodges the socks easily with a tilt of his head and lets out a dramatic dreamy sigh, "Mrs. Kim's bosom." Joonmyun picks a boot off the floor and hefts it threateningly. Baekhyun stops cackling and waves a hand at him, "But seriously the offer still stands to live with me and Kyungsoo, we could use the extra roommate now that Chanyeol moved out and this place is a shithole."

"I'd rather live on the streets," Joonmyun shoots back over his shoulder as he starts moving boxes into the bedroom. It's only partly because Joonmyun can't imagine having to constantly deal with Kyungsoo and Baekhyun's bickering, it's enough when they hang out on the weekends but he really doesn't need to see chokeholds with his morning coffee. Aside from that, Joonmyun's self aware enough to know he's a slob, it's something he's come to accept while still trying to improve himself. He's not looking to sabotage any of the few friendships he's managed to keep through college over the fact he can never remember to pick up his socks or take out the trash. Living with a stranger has never been something that appealed to Joonmyun so that's how he finds himself in a cramped four story walk-up, his first few paychecks serving as a deposit.

"You came to check this place out before you signed the lease right?" Baekhyun's voice floats through the open doorway, apparently not offended or surprised by Joonmyun's rebuff.

"Yeah?" Joonmyun calls, a little curiously. Baekhyun's socked feet creak across the floorboards like he's gotten up to investigate something.

"So you didn't think anything of the hole in the living room floor?" Baekhyun sounds on the verge of disbelieving laughter.

"What?!" Joonmyun almost trips and hits his head on the closet door as his feet slide from trying to scramble into the other room too quickly. Baekhyun's standing in the corner of the room, sipping his beer and staring placidly down between his feet. "What are you talking about?" Baekhyun nods his chin at the floor, obviously entertained judging by the grin pulling at his lips.

It's not huge, maybe just big enough to fit your fist through, but it goes straight through to the apartment below and Joonmyun stares down at the hole in horror. That definitely hadn't been there when he'd toured the apartment, he'd scanned every inch against the checklist he'd brought of all the questions you're supposed to ask. "Yeah," Baekhyun says through a mouthful of beer as Joonmyun feels a tension headache coming on, "it's a nice place you've got yourself here."

-

He means to do something about the hole as soon as possible but before Joonmyun realizes it, it's been a week since he moved in. Between settling everything into its place, long hours at work, or the night that Joonmyun got mixed up on unfamiliar subway lines and ended up adding an extra hour to his commute, at the end of the day he only has enough energy left to collapse face first into his sheets. He's left a few messages on the answering machine of the super but hasn't gotten any in return. The few times he'd chanced calling through the hole to see if the apartment below was aware of the situation, there'd been no response.

Saturday morning and Joonmyun’s down at the bank of mailboxes in the lobby. He’s not really expecting anything yet, all his mail will probably keep going to his parents’ place until the change of address notices take effect. But when he slots the tiny key in and attempts to turn it, it won’t budge. He tries turning it left, then right, then just desperately jimmying the key in the lock but the little rectangular door won’t open. There’s no visible handle and after five minutes standing there getting winded and feeling like an idiot he resorts to just banging his fist on the panel before the fight drains out of him and his forehead thunks forward with a metallic twang.

“You just, uh…” Joonmyun startles back, he hadn’t realized there was someone standing next to him and hopes they hadn’t been watching for long. “You just have to,” the guy has headphones draped around his neck and bags under his eyes but he gives Joonmyun a friendly amused smile, “push a little harder.” Joonmyun stands there still caught a little off guard as the stranger reaches out and shoves the key to Joonmyun’s mailbox and it slips in another notch before turning easily.

The door swings open and Joonmyun’s distracted when a pastel pink envelope tumbles to the floor from where it’d been precariously slipped into the box. Joonmyun flushes and stoops to snatch it up and cram it under his arm so he nearly misses it when the guy genially asks, “Just moved in I’m guessing?”

“Um, yeah,” Joonmyun gives a furtive glance to the envelope and from the barely legible scribble addressing the card to Joonmyun he assumes it’s from Jongin. Joonmyun had really hoped to make a better first impression on his neighbors but doesn’t think he’s having a good go of it right now.

“Jongdae,” the guy supplies with a brief raise of his hand as he gets his own mail, grimacing down at some of the thin white envelopes but recovering when Joonmyun offers his own name. Jongdae looks like he might be a university student, his ears are poking out from the sides of a worn patterned snapback but he doesn’t look that much younger than Joonmyun.

When Joonmyun doesn’t come up with anything to keep the conversation going, despite opening his mouth and hoping something charismatic might tumble out, Jongdae just looks him up and down with an amused grin. “Well, I’ve got a date with my pillow. I’ll see you around, Joonmyun,” he gives Joonmyun a wave and heads for the stairs. Joonmyun waves back too late so Jongdae’s already around the bend and doesn’t see it. Joonmyun slowly lowers his hand.

He frowns when he remembers the card in his hands and rips into it. It’s covered in sparkles and swirls and Joonmyun’s pretty sure it’s meant for girls after they get their first period, the inscription congratulates him on becoming a woman, but it’s still nice that Jongin sent him a housewarming note. It’s when he looks up to check if there’s anything else in the recesses of his mailbox that he belatedly realizes Jongdae had used the mailbox under his. The square letters on the tiny printed labels read ‘KIM, KIM 313’ just below ‘KIM 413’ in the grid of boxes.

-

Baekhyun takes him out drinking with Kyungsoo and some of the others that night, he doesn’t need to do much to convince Joonmyun he needs it. The week’s been more stressful than he’d thought it would be and some nights in his single apartment he thinks maybe he’s rushed into living by himself, feeling terribly alone making meals for one and coming home to a silent room.

The couch cushion feels good against his flushed face when he stumbles home. Baekhyun had kept refilling his glass and his tolerance isn’t what it used to be, if it had really ever been anything. He’s just contemplating the impossibility of making it to his bed when he realizes his apartment isn’t so silent tonight. It must’ve been covered by his own tipsy shuffling and muttering to himself because now, laid out and breathing quiet, the sound is clear and unmuffled.

Heavy exhales, a voice...more than one, murmuring that isn’t actual talking just cut-off syllables and groaning.

Joonmyun’s body floods hot when he realizes what going on, what he’s hearing. There’s a chuckle, almost faintly familiar, but it’s low under the rhythmic shifting of fabric and creak of furniture. Joonmyun bites his lip bloody, thoughts a mess and berating himself for not getting up and moving to another room, looking for something to cover the hole there’s now a desperate whimpering floating through, anything. But he just lays still, frozen and shamefully listening, eyes trained vacantly on the floor. His brain traitorously wonders if it’s the same playfully grinning Jongdae from that morning making the noises, or if maybe he’s pulling them out of someone else, coy smile curling on his handsome face.

There’s a deep guttural grunt, Joonmyun’s hips flexing down into the couch in sympathy but refusing to reach down to palm himself because apparently that’s where his conscience draws the line, before everything goes breathlessly still.

Joonmyun’s eyes snap open from where they’d drifted shut when the wave of mortification and self-disgust hits him.

He bolts for the bathroom, snapping the door shut and hurriedly stripping to get under the showerhead and drown in cold water. He just listened to people having sex without their knowledge. He’s a degenerate. A _lecher_. His hands curl into shaky fists against the tile wall as his body subsides under the chilly spray.

After he’s dried off, staring down the shamefaced Joonmyun in the mirror but telling himself there wasn’t much he could’ve done and risks tiptoeing back into this living room, everything’s quiet. Joonmyun’s gaze skitters to the jagged edged floorboards in the corner of the room, the hole seemingly gaping wider as Joonmyun swallows and pulls the towel tighter around himself.

-

Joonmyun probably wouldn’t admit to how long he stands outside the door to apartment 313, taking a deep breath and raising a hand to ring the buzzer before deflating and having to recollect himself. He finally manages to do it with his eyes squeezed shut like he’s tearing off a band-aid but thankfully schools his features into something more friendly by the time the door swings open.

It isn’t Jongdae. “...Hi,” Joonmyun falters, not sure where to go from here. He thinks for a second that maybe he has the wrong apartment but a quick glance over the shoulder of the person standing in front of him and… there it is, the ceiling cracked and open in the corner of the room.

“Hello,” the person returns slowly, sounding bemused as he raises an eyebrow at Joonmyun. “Can I help- woah hey! Get back here,” he cuts off as a kitten with mottled fur tries to scurry into the hall between Joonmyun’s legs but the guy deftly scoops it up with his foot under its belly and dumps it back into the apartment. “Sorry,” he huffs a laugh, “he makes a break for it every time I open the door. But what can I do for you?”

Joonmyun gives a quick polite bow as he introduces himself, “I just moved in right above you and I was just wondering, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but, there’s sort of a hole in your ceiling and I can see straight through into your apartment.”

The guy rubs the back of his neck, chuckling deprecatingly a little, “Yes, we’re aware. I’m Minseok, by the way, welcome to the building. Do want to come in for a cup of coffee? My roommate should be getting home soon and, ah, we can talk about it.”

Joonmyun doesn’t know how much there is to talk about exactly but he hasn’t had time to buy beans to go with the fancy coffee machine his mother bought him as a moving in present and it’s a nice invitation so he smiles and nods as Minseok shifts aside to let Joonmyun step past him. The apartment is an almost exact copy of his own, except instead of a loveseat in the living room there’s a futon along with a tiny wardrobe closet shoved into the corner.

“You can take a seat on the futon,” Minseok gestures as he goes to rummage in the tiny kitchen for mugs, the kitten chasing after his heels, “Jongdae won’t mind.”

Joonmyun thanks him and thinks, right, of course, _roommate_. But Joonmyun opts for standing slightly awkwardly on the other side of the bar counter from Minseok while he brews a pot because he hasn’t forgotten the reason he’s here. That he'd been an inadvertent voyeur last night and logic says whatever fornication he’d overheard had happened on that futon. Minseok doesn’t comment, just offers him a curious smile and a carton of milk as he slides a mug across the countertop to Joonmyun. He takes the time to pour a bit into a banchan dish and kneels to catch the kitten in his hands and plop him down on the counter next to it.

“I think I actually met your roommate yesterday,” Joonmyun attempts to make conversation as he stirs his steaming coffee instead of just peering around the room keenly. The apartment looks well lived in, not the stark bare bones Joonmyun’s still is. There are scribbled notes and magnets on the fridge, take out menus stacked on top of it, slightly crooked pictures and posters on the walls, surfaces cluttered but neat.

Minseok grins at him over the rim of his own cup, “I’m sorry.”

Joonmyun laughs, surprised, “No, if it wasn’t for him I’d probably still be struggling to get my stupid mailbox open.”

“You get the hang of it,” Minseok assures him, letting the kitten bat at his fingers as he waves a hand around his face.

“What’s his name?” Joonmyun thinks about reaching out to try petting behind his fur tufted ears but he’s never been terribly good with animals and the skin on the back of his knuckles stings with the memory of cat scratches past.

“Not sure,” Minseok doesn’t seem to find it odd there’s a kitten in his apartment he’s unfamiliar with. Joonmyun winces watching the way Minseok blithely lets him sink his sharp little teeth into to the pad of his thumb, but before he can ask any more questions the front door opens. Jongdae’s humming loudly to himself and doesn’t look up as he toes off his shoes and struggles out of his sweatshirt, tossing it on the hooks by the door, taking his cap off with it. He finally glances up while dropping his keys into a bowl on the coffee table, his shirt still rucked a little around his shoulders so his narrow hips and the hair at his tummy shows.

His eyes go from Joonmyun to Minseok to the coffee in their hands then back to Joonmyun as he freezes and the song in this throat dies out. “Hello neighbor,” Jongdae shoots at Joonmyun, sidling up next to him at the counter but looking to Minseok again. “Shall I tell Lu Han you’re entertaining gentleman callers while you have the apartment to yourself?”

“You won’t tell Lu Han anything if you don’t want him to know you and Yixing fucked around on his bed that one time,” Minseok cuts back smoothly.

Jongdae shrugs noncommittally, “Let him know. I haven’t felt afraid for my life in a while, I could use the adrenaline rush.”

“Speaking of Yixing,” Minseok sounds like he had made the threat as an intentional segue, his eyes flicking between Jongdae and Joonmyun and the hole tucked away at the back of the room, “last night…” Joonmyun flushes, trying to cover it by taking a sip of coffee, because despite feeling mostly lost in the conversation he realizes that Minseok probably knows exactly why Joonmyun had chosen today to come knocking on their door.

“Yeah we came back here on my break for a little,” Jongdae flashes a glance at Joonmyun that he almost misses, too busy trying to look innocuous, “he stopped by work with me this morning too, you know the soft spot he has for grumpy cat.”

“Well Joonmyun, our new neighbor, came by to introduce himself,” Minseok says meaningfully, “he just moved in to the apartment _right above us_.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says slowly, then more comprehending, “ _oh_.” It’s hard to tell because his hair is shaggy and curling but it looks like the tips of Jongdae’s ears have turned pink.

In the end Joonmyun is a lot more awkward about it than Jongdae is. Jongdae apologizes but he’s smiling like he’s trying really hard not to break out cackling. “Does the fact that you’re here mean you’re not hoping for repeat performance at some point?”

“I,” Joonmyun hates that he’s blustering when Jongdae’s smiling at him so infectiously. He doesn’t know what the right thing to say in this situation is but Minseok makes up for it by punching Jongdae in the shoulder. Jongdae lets out a wounded noise and rubs at the spot with a pout, shifting to stand behind Joonmyun like he expects him to fend Minseok off.

“Maybe he’s a normal functioning adult and doesn’t want to live with a goddamn hole in the floor of his apartment,” Minseok rolls his eyes but Jongdae has moved on to making soft cooing sounds to get the kitten’s attention and Joonmyun watches with an odd clenching in his gut as the kitten butts his head against Jongdae’s outstretched wrist.

“Yeah about that,” Joonmyun starts, trying to get the reason for his visit back on track, “I’ve tried contacting the super but he hasn’t responded to any of my messages.”

Jongdae and Minseok share a look. “He’s like that,” Minseok says, “we managed to get him to have someone come over to check the hole when it first happened but he told us under the lease it’s our own responsibility and if we wanted it fixed we’d have to deal with it ourselves.”

“And the apartment above us has been empty for a while,” Jongdae cuts in, looking a little shamefacedly at Joonmyun, “so we’ve just been living with it. And the last time I checked it hadn’t gone all the way through to upstairs.”

“Now that I’ve moved in,” Joonmyun offers hesitantly, “we could have it fixed, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“The thing about that is,” Jongdae’s still playing with the kitten but it feels more pointed now, like he doesn’t want to meet Joonmyun’s eyes, “Minseok’s TA salary isn’t that much and they already raised the rent once and I have a few things that I need to take care of an-”

“He’s saying we don’t have the money,” Minseok finishes for him, unamused.

“Ah,” Joonmyun isn’t great when it comes discussing money issues because he’s never really been in that situation before. He’s still pretty new to the supporting himself thing, he doesn’t have that much left over from his first few paychecks after the security deposit and the first and last month's rent he paid up front. There’s always asking his parents for the money, he isn’t a stranger to it. “I could…”

“Please don’t offer to pay for it yourself,” Jongdae stops him with a grimace, “I’m sorry but I just really hate feeling like I owe people things.”

“The hole’s mostly on our side anyway,” Minseok adds. “It wouldn’t be right if you paid for all of it. I’m sure we could get the funds together in a month or two if we’re responsible with our money,” he gives Jongdae a significant look here but Jongdae just waves him off with a hand in his face, “if you wouldn’t mind just...living with it for now I guess?”

“We’ll be good,” Jongdae directs at Joonmyun, but he’s got the kitten held up in his face, talking through him in a falsetto, “we promise.” Joonmyun hears himself let out something distressingly close to a giggle and hopes this doesn’t turn out as poorly as he’s sure it will.

-

Jongdae offers to buy him lunch, Joonmyun tries to refuse but Jongdae assures him it’s mostly for his own peace of mind to make up for ‘disturbing’ him the night before. Joonmyun doesn't mention how that’s probably not the best word for it, how he’d stubbornly stood in the shower trying to keep his hands off himself with the soundtrack of noises in his head which sound dangerously similar to the ones spilling from Jongdae’s throat now as he chuckles. “I mean, if we were doing it right you should’ve been able to hear it even without the hole, amiright?” Jongdae goes for a high five but then thinks better of it and apologizes again instead.

Lunch ends up being Joonmyun’s pick from one of the take-out menus stacked on top of the fridge, sitting gingerly on the illicit futon as Minseok settles down next to him with a stack of papers and a red marker and Jongdae ducks away into the bathroom. He emerges a few minutes later freshly showered and wearing worn in looking sweats, wedges himself between Minseok and Joonmyun, and flips on the TV to some daytime trash show. Minseok doesn’t even look up, just shifts over slightly and Joonmyun wonders if he’s supposed to do the same, the solid warmth of Jongdae’s thigh pressing against his.

Jongdae acts so familiar with Joonmyun, stealing the bits from Joonmyun’s plate he pushes to the side when the food gets there, grabbing him by the wrist to shake his arm when Jongdae laughs too hard at his own joke. And Joonmyun keeps expecting to find himself shying away from it, never comfortable around people too quickly, always standing on ceremony until it feels safe to let his guard down, but he feels his mouth breaking out in a grin he can’t force down, making stupid puns Jongdae cackles at in delight.

Minseok ducks out halfway through lunch, glancing down at his cellphone with a secret smile and ditching his pen to grab his coat, throwing a ‘good to meet you’ over his shoulder at Joonmyun on his way to the door. Joonmyun sticks around to help Jongdae with the dishes, wiping them dry with a washcloth and stacking them on the counter for Jongdae to put away. And then Joonmyun is somehow on Jongdae’s futon again, cheesy movie from the 90’s on the TV screen with Jongdae muttering snide asides about the acting.

The sun setting, turning the lighting in the room a warm orange, makes Joonmyun startle. He hadn’t realized he’d been dozing off, head lolling to the side, a little worn out from the less than peaceful sleep he’d had the night before. He has apologies ready on his tongue, horribly embarrassed and wiping his chin in the hopes that he hadn’t been drooling on himself, something Baekhyun’s told him many times he’s wont to do. But when he looks over Jongdae’s bent in on himself, arms folded over his chest and the normally curling corners of his mouth soft and even as he breathes steadily.

The kitten’s curled up on Jongdae’s socked feet and Joonmyun steps over them carefully, leaning forward for the remote to flick the TV off so the only sound in the room is Jongdae’s gentle snores. Joonmyun looks back over his shoulder as he slips on his shoes. This wasn’t how he expected the day to go, not really any closer to having the hole fixed, but feeling this foreign creep of contentment about it. He’s reluctant to leave, the room feeling comfortable and domestic despite how out of place he is in it, but he turns and silently sees himself out.

-

Things run a bit smoother for Joonmyun that week. He finds his towering cubicle mate isn’t as terrifying as Joonmyun had first thought, doesn’t transfer to the wrong subway line once during his commutes, and on Tuesday he opens his mailbox on the second try. Minseok even takes the same train as him a few mornings, the university in the same direction of the broadcasting station where Joonmyun works. It’s one of these mornings that Joonmyun realizes he hadn’t thought to ask what Jongdae does, why Joonmyun never seems to see him coming or leaving their building. He tries to think of a casual way of asking but never gets around to it, just exchanges small talk with Minseok over the shoulders of other commuters.

-

He makes plans with Kyungsoo for him to come over Friday night because he hasn’t been by to see Joonmyun’s new place yet, so Joonmyun is in no way surprised that when he opens the door Baekhyun is there as well. Baekhyun settles himself on the couch and declares it Joonmyun and Kyungsoo’s responsibility to go buy the supplies for dinner because he’s already well acquainted with Joonmyun’s staircase while Kyungsoo is just being introduced.

Leaving Baekhyun alone in his apartment was a mistake and, in hindsight, Joonmyun honestly doesn’t know how he didn’t see it coming. When Joonmyun and Kyungsoo make it through the door, hands laden down with bags from the grocer down the street, Baekhyun is innocently watching TV with his feet propped on Joonmyun’s coffee table. It isn’t until they settle the bags on the counter and start to lay everything out that Baekhyun calls over casually, “So when were you going to tell me the guy in the apartment you have peeping rights to is such a babe?”

Joonmyun goes perfectly still, “Excuse me?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes move between Baekhyun and Joonmyun, amused, his mouth doing that smirk it does right before it breaks out into a grin. Baekhyun sidles over, his hands clasped behind his back, “Your shitty basic cable subscription wasn’t enough to hold my interest and I was just a little curious. That hole’s definitely gotten bigger.”

Joonmyun tries to sound unconcerned as he starts to chop vegetables and says, “Oh?” But Baekhyun is clearly not fooled.

“I still have to see this hole,” Kyungsoo adds but Baekhyun just gestures over his shoulder. It probably has grown a little, clearly visible from the kitchen now. “Looks like you found a different way to live in a disaster zone,” Kyungsoo looks pleased with his own joke.

“It’s not a disaster, it’s just… temporary,” Joonmyun pointedly does not acknowledge the piles of dishes in the sink or the clothes strewn across the floor creeping out his open bedroom door. “When did you meet Jongdae?”

“Oh, _Jongdae_ ,” Baekhyun coos, Joonmyun hears the tilde that would be at the end the way he says it and he frowns. He swears he hadn’t said it in any particularly telling way. Baekhyun carries on, “I just popped my head through-”

Kyungsoo snorts but Joonmyun makes a scandalized noise at that, “You can’t just spy on people’s apartments like that!”

“I don’t know what they’re expecting,” Baekhyun shrugs, “you said it was their idea to keep it open. Anyway, I was just peeking through and Jongdae was kind enough to introduce himself.” Baekhyun inspects his nails, “He did seem a little disappointed I wasn’t you though, which was rude.”

“What did you say to him,” Joonmyun feels his grip on his chopping knife tighten.

“Oh not much,” Baekhyun shoots a grin at Kyungsoo and a look at Joonmyun out of the corner of his eye which means he is very obviously lying, “just gave him your number.”

Joonmyun makes a desperate gurgling noise in the back of his throat that roughly translates to, “You didn’t.” Judging by the crackle of laughter from Kyungsoo it just sounded like a dying sea mammal call.

“What?” Baekhyun raises his eyebrows at Joonmyun, “He asked for it. Though I don’t see why it’s necessary when you already have a convenient glory hole.”

-

Joonmyun doesn’t think he could feel like more of an idiot.

He’d thought about it the entire time he and Kyungsoo were cooking. They had enough food. He technically owed Jongdae a meal. Baekhyun said he had asked about him. Would it be weird to ask? He makes the decision just as they’re laying out all the plates on the table, mumbles something about how he’ll be right back and ducks out of the apartment. Baekhyun hollers after him, “ _You could just yell at the floor!_ ”

This time he doesn’t spend as much time psyching himself up before knocking but he still checks to make sure his shirt is tucked neatly into his slacks and smooths his fringe away from his forehead. He gives a sharp rap with his knuckles. And then waits as there’s silence.

It’s quiet for a minute but just as Joonmyun’s raising his hand to try again there’s the sound of clumsy footsteps from inside and he takes the time to fix his best charming smile on his face. When the door opens, again, it isn’t Jongdae. Joonmyun doesn’t let his smile slip at all because that would be terribly rude.

“Oh hey, Joonmyun,” Minseok rests an elbow on the doorframe, “what’s going on?”

Joonmyun runs his fingers through his bangs again in a nervous habit, “I was just wondering if you, and Jongdae, wanted to come by for dinner.” He hopes he manages to sound offhand, doesn’t give away the fact that now the thought’s in his head, of having Jongdae at his place laughing with his friends over drinks, his chest is vibrating with a eager sort of buoyancy.

“You just missed Jongdae actually,” Minseok says with a tilt of his head, “he bartends at that lounge down the road. His shift starts in twenty minutes.”

“Alright, ah,” Joonmyun hopes he doesn’t visibly deflate too much. It would still be nice to have Minseok over, he enjoys his company in the mornings and it’s always good to have someone else there when Baekhyun and Kyungsoo start in on each other. “If you want to…”

Minseok cuts him off there, “Sorry, I uh…” And it’s only then that Joonmyun takes the time to look and realizes the collar of Minseok’s shirt is loose and tugged to the side, his hair disheveled and his mouth tellingly red. Minseok tugs the hem of his shirt down over his half done up zipper.

“Maybe some other time,” Joonmyun amends, giving Minseok a wave and opening his mouth to apologize for interrupting but decides that might be overstepping.

“Yeah, another time,” Minseok gives him a conspiratorial grin Joonmyun isn’t sure he fully understands but it helps him from feeling too bereft as he heads back up the stairs alone to Baekhyun’s wasted catcalls.

-

Joonmyun’s phone vibrates against his leg in the middle of dinner and he slips it from his pocket under the table. The text’s just a complicated mess of symbols from an unknown number, and it takes him a minute till he realizes it’s a winking face. He manages to hide his stupid grin behind his hand as he uses the other to key in the characters of Jongdae’s name and presses _save contact_.

-

He stays up that night, tells himself it’s a bout of insomnia from eating too much as he sits in front of the TV, volume down low and muted light washing over him. He isn’t waiting for anything and even if he was it never comes, the room beneath his feet silent until Joonmyun finds himself waking up with his face stuck to a couch pillow. He sits up, blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking around his apartment lit by daylight. Joonmyun startles when there’s a knock on the door, just stares at it in confusion for a moment before realizing maybe that’s what had woken him.

Joonmyun stretches his arms behind his back as he stumbles to answer it. There’s a crick in his neck and his mouth tastes like hot garbage. He isn’t expecting Jongdae to be standing on the side of the door, a painfully familiar pair of argyle socks balled together in his hand.

“Hi,” Joonmyun says weakly. He can sense the hair at the back of his head standing up in a cowlick and he curls his fingers weakly to stop from reaching to comb through it.

Jongdae grins way too brightly for how early Joonmyun’s sure it is and how tired he looks, dark rings circling under his eyes. He waggles the socks at Joonmyun, “So I found these behind my futon.” (Joonmyun has a vision of himself the day before toeing off his socks in the living room while reading and can’t remember seeing them since.) “And I know Minseok doesn’t wear,” Jongdae glances down at the patterned ball in his hand and makes a face, “whatever this is.”

Joonmyun reaches out and snatches them from Jongdae’s hand and not-so-smoothly tosses them over his shoulder into the recesses of his apartment. “I am unbelievably sorry,” he croaks.

The crack of laughter Jongdae lets out catches him off guard, “Careful with that aim or we’ll end up back where we started.” Joonmyun risks a peek over his shoulder and sees the socks have come to land dangerously close to the edge of the hole. He squints. Had it always been that big?

When he turns back around Jongdae is staring at him in a quiet sort of amusement and Joonmyun flounders for a second. He likes the way Jongdae looks at him like he’s something worth finding out about. He likes the way Jongdae’s mouth has these sharp little corners, likes the way he’d laughed at Joonmyun’s stupid jokes like they weren’t stupid. “Hey, um,” Joonmyun gives in and pets the creased hair at the back of his neck, “do you want to come in for breakfast?”

Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up and Joonmyun grasps for a way to backtrack. He’d probably misinterpreted the text, the looks, he thinks about overheard moans and the name _Yixing_ and realizes he’s probably been an idiot. But then Jongdae just nods very seriously at him, “You do owe me a meal.” Joonmyun feels his mouth doing that grin that makes him look about five years old and he brings a hand up to cover it with his wrist as Jongdae slips past him into his apartment with a sly look.

“Oh, um,” Joonmyun remembers, “one second. I just have to brush my teeth.”

-

Breakfast on Sunday leads to dinner on Thursday. Joonmyun gets off the subway a stop early on his way home from work to meet Jongdae for street food before he starts his shift at the bar.

It warms Joonmyun to his fingertips, the way Jongdae seems so honestly curious about Joonmyun’s not very glamorous job. He wonders if it’s a skill he’s developed from listening to drunks pour out their life story to him. “I’m just a production assistant right now. Basically I cater to the talent and make sure they’re where they’re supposed to be but,” Joonmyun fidgets with his chopsticks, “I’d like to have a radio show, maybe. Someday.”

Jongdae nudges their elbows together so Joonmyun looks up at him, the corner’s of Jongdae’s lips twitching distractingly. “I’m sure you’d be great at it,” Jongdae grins a little harder, “you certainly have a face for radio.”

“Yah!” Joonmyun grabs Jongdae by the scruff of his neck impulsively and shakes him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, hey,” Jongdae’s throat bobs as he laughs. He swats Joonmyun away but when his hand drops it lands on Joonmyun’s thigh, “Like you don’t know you’re classically handsome and shit.”

Joonmyun glances down at Jongdae’s fingers curling over his knee, careful not to react. Jongdae isn’t terribly subtle when he flirts. Like the way he’d pressed up close behind Joonmyun to peek over his shoulder while he’d fried some eggs for breakfast, just to make sure Joonmyun hadn’t broken the yolk, Jongdae had said, as his fingers ghosted down Joonmyun’s side. Or the stupid texts he sends Joonmyun in the morning asking what he’s wearing or stories about Jongdae’s day that invariably end in suggestive emoticons. It’s refreshing in the way it takes Joonmyun out of his own head. It’s only that Joonmyun’s never been good about being casual with most things, relationships especially, and he’s starting to think maybe he should make that clear. To be fair to Jongdae. To himself.

But it’s tantalizing how easily everything with Jongdae has come, how he’s never worried what Jongdae thinks of him or grappling for something to say to seem interesting. “What about you?” He asks as he licks ddeokbokki sauce off his lips, “Do you want to own your own club? I’ve heard you singing before.” Joonmyun flushes. He hadn’t meant to admit to that. That sometimes when he hears Jongdae get home he’ll turn down his own stereo because without fail Jongdae will be carrying some tune. Old trot songs, the newest girl group’s single, English rap that Joonmyun doesn’t understand but likes the sound of Jongdae’s voice over.

Jongdae’s hand retreats as he brings his cartoon of his food to his mouth. “No, that’s just to pay the bills. Apartment renovations and such, you know,” he grins at Joonmyun. “My friend Yixing plays the open mic most nights, it’s not so bad.” Joonmyun swallows at the mention of that name, wonders what type of ‘friend’ Yixing is exactly, if Jongdae considers Joonmyun a ‘friend’.

“Anyway, I like my day job too much to quit it.” Joonmyun has the question nearly past his lips, can’t believe he’s gone this long without finding out what exactly it is Jongdae does every morning, but before he can Jongdae’s shoveling the last pieces of rice cake into his mouth and checking the time on his phone. “ _Shit_ , I’m going to be late,” Jongdae wipes his hands off on the sides of his legs and tosses his empty carton in a nearby trashcan.

“I’ll text you,” Joonmyun hopes it comes out as smooth even though he sort of blurts it awkwardly, but Jongdae nearly knocks into an old lady because he’s too busy waving over his shoulder to watch where he’s walking so Joonmyun thinks it’s okay.

-

(Joonmyun wakes up for a glass of water in the middle of the night, shuffling to the kitchen in his socks with his eyes still half closed. He tells himself he doesn’t purposely linger too long in the living room after the glass is empty and in the sink. But there’s muted light drifting up through the hole in the corner of the room and Joonmyun’s helplessly drawn to it like a moth. And then it isn’t just light, soft panting and hitching whines that have Joonmyun’s toes curling.

He has no excuse for staying. For easing himself down so he’s crouched pressed to the wall at the mouth of the hole, ears straining. It sounds like Jongdae’s alone, there’s no answering breathless noises, and in his head Joonmyun imagines himself taking the stairs down in his pajamas and knocking on Jongdae’s door. Or maybe even the door’s unlocked and Joonmyun just walks in, palms Jongdae through his sleep pants and uses some terrible porno dialogue, _Need a hand with that?_ But Joonmyun just sits there in the dark, chewing his lip raw and curling his hands into tight fists against the coiling ache in his gut. He hears the grunt of Jongdae finishing then a hushed silence and Joonmyun presses an arm to his face to muffle the heaving of his chest.)

-

_This isn’t happening_ , Joonmyun thinks to himself. It can’t be. It’s too cliché.

Despite that here he stands on the sidewalk, his wool sweater soaked through with rainwater because he’d managed to leave his umbrella at work and the sky had opened up just as he’d stepped out of his subway stop. And there’s a kitten. A rain-drowned shivering kitten huddled by some trash cans on the curb. Joonmyun doesn’t know why his feet aren’t moving. He’s so close to his building he can see it, he shouldn’t be frozen here blinking raindrops out of his eyes in indecision. He swears under his breath as there’s a crack of thunder and and the kitten shakes at the tremor.

Unfair.

“Alright, come here,” he mutters to himself as he takes the last few steps and scoops up the scrawny ball of fur. It’s so light it must be all skin and bones and frankly smells like, well, like it’s been living in garbage. Joonmyun makes a face but tugs up the hem of his sweater so it can nestle against his chest for the short trip home, the water from its fur sopping through Joonmyun’s shirt and making him break out in goose flesh.

Thankfully it doesn’t struggle or claw at him, just mewls weakly and squirms in Joonmyun’s grip as he jogs up the stairs. He makes it three flights and immediately turns off the landing. By the time he’s at Jongdae’s door the kitten’s managed to wriggle up until its scraggly orange head is peeking out the neck of Joonmyun’s sweater and he tries not to gag at the smell as he knocks hurriedly.

It takes a minute and some loud thudding with his fist on the door that probably scares the kitten as much as the thunder had (Joonmyun’s familiar enough with Jongdae’s schedule by now to know he’s probably passed out on his futon) but Jongdae finally wrenches the door open. He’s in rumpled sweats and there are pillow creases on his face, he’s halfway through a disgruntled “ _Who the-_ ” before he takes in Joonmyun standing there.

The kitten makes a pathetic sounding meow. “Help?” Joonmyun says meekly.

For a frightening second it actually looks like Jongdae’s about to slam the door in his face. Joonmyun honestly doesn’t know what he’d do then. He can feel the fabric of his water logged clothes sticking to him, tries to keep his teeth from chattering as lank tendrils of hair drip down the back of his neck. What was he thinking, he has no idea how to take care of an animal. Jongdae had seemed so good with that kitten Joonmyun had just thought maybe-

“Did Lu Han put you up to this?” Jongdae has a tight grip on the door handle and he looks flushed for some reason but also a little miffed and Joonmyun is just confused.

“What? Who is Lu Han?” Joonmyun fumbles the kitten out of his sweater and Jongdae feints forward like he’s going to catch it if Joonmyun drops it. “No one ‘put me up to this’, I just... Help? Please?” Joonmyun tries again holding the kitten out. Jongdae reaches for it automatically, gathering it in his hands, doesn’t flinch as he cradles it wetly against his sleep shirt.

He looks up at Joonmyun, disbelieving smile pulling at his face, “What fucking shojo manhwa did you walk out of, Kim Joonmyun?”

-

Jongdae washes the kitten with a warm towel in the kitchen sink and microwaves it ( _her_ , Jongdae corrects with a quick peek under _her_ tail) a saucer of milk, Joonmyun’s drenched work clothes laid out on Jongdae’s drying rack while he wears a pair of borrowed sweats.

Joonmyun watches in wonder as Jongdae gently dries the kitten and feeds her the first drops of cream off the tip of his finger, the kitten lapping at it hesitantly. “How do you know how to do this stuff?” Joonmyun asks, rubbing his hands up his arms to stave off the chill that feels set in his bones. The pullover is baggy and smells of the same spicy musk that lingers when Jongdae’s near. The kitten looks like she’s settling down for a nap as Jongdae swaddles her loosely in a blanket.

“You never asked,” Jongdae says easily, “I work at an animal shelter.” He lays the bundle under the low table in the middle of the room. “Minseok’s really good about me bringing home the ones that need extra attention,” Jongdae laughs under his breath, “or spending the rent money on kibble.” He stretches so his shirt lifts over his tummy as he turns back towards Joonmyun, who is standing there uttering a soft _oh_ to himself, thinking of the calico Minseok had let wander around his kitchen but hadn’t known the name of. Jongdae grins crookedly at him, deliberate, “I’m a sucker for the adorably helpless ones.”

Joonmyun flushes and remembers collapsing on his mailbox on the verge of frustrated tears. Jongdae slowly steps towards him, quietly intent. “I, um, should probably get going. I have a lot of work to do tonight,” Joonmyun swallows nervously, he doesn’t. It’s just he _knows_ the look on Jongdae’s face and it’s making his chest feel tight and skin overheat under the borrowed sweater but they still haven’t Talked about it and Joonmyun’s defenses are unfairly low after watching Jongdae coo at a kitten for an hour. “Thank you for this, really.” Jongdae is standing so close now and his hand comes to rest on Joonmyun’s side, warm through the fabric.

“Joonmyun,” he says like he knows it’s an excuse but isn’t faulting Joonmyun for it. His eyes focus low on Joonmyun’s face, head tilted.

“Good night,” Joonmyun blurts and before he knows what he’s doing he’s leaning in and pressing a kiss high on Jongdae’s cheek and scrambling towards the door. “Thank you,” he manages to croak again over his shoulder, just to see Jongdae standing there looking shell-shocked, staring at Joonmyun in disbelief.

Joonmyun leaves his shoes behind as he trips out the door, Jongdae laughing after him incredulously, “ _God_ , you are so lame.”

-

Joonmyun spends his break at work the next day searching for pet stores in his neighborhood, what the best food for underfed kittens is, how they like to sleep. He might’ve desperately typed in ‘how to make kitten like you’ at one point but deleted his internet history right after.

It’s not like he thinks he’s going to be keeping it ( _her_ , he reminds himself) or anything but if she’s staying with Jongdae for now it’s only right that Joonmyun helps out how he can. Which is how Joonmyun finds himself riding the subway home later than usual with a small cushy pink cat bed on his lap and a bag filled with cans of food nestled in it. He means to go right to Jongdae’s but he’s wearing his old work shoes because he’d left his good ones there last night, they’re tight on his feet and it would be nice to get his tie off, so he stops by his own apartment first.

He’s just through the door, struggling out of his shoes and making for his room when he hears Jongdae’s voice. It’s hushed, floating up through the hole, and Joonmyun should really be used to it by now but it surprises him every time. He stops to take a minute to listen, self indulgent.

Jongdae’s singing some lullaby Joonmyun isn’t familiar with but it cuts off quickly. “No? You’re not tired?” Joonmyun hears Jongdae _giggle_ , bright and loud, “Okay, okay.” He almost goes to change then, it’s just vague sounds of Jongdae playing with the kitten and he’d rather be down there to actually see it but then Jongdae switches back to words.

“I like him. Do you like him?” Joonmyun thinks his heart is seizing up in his chest. “Hey, don’t look at me like that.” Jongdae’s voice drops, sounding conspiratorial and Joonmyun strains to hear over the blood rushing in his ears, “Should we keep him?”

The bag of cans still in Joonmyun’s hand slips through his fingers and clangs to the floor. Everything goes silent.

Joonmyun wordlessly mouths a curse as he stoops to collect up the cans but figures he might as well just go with it at this point. “Oh, wow, how clumsy of me!” He says to himself, overly loud.

There’s no response for a minute, everything quiet and Joonmyun crouched on the ground anxiously, but then there’s a fluffy little head peeking at him. A full kitten follows, popped through the hole and blinking around Joonmyun’s apartment curiously. “I’m hungry, Joonmyun oppa!” A falsetto calls up from under her, Jongdae’s giggles poorly suppressed, “Can I have cuddles and scratches behind the ears?”

“Jong _dae_ ,” Joonmyun yelps, scrabbling over to scoop the kitten away from the edge of the hole she’s teetering dangerously near the edge of. But when he looks over into it Jongdae’s nearly right there, standing on a chair with a pillow in his hands as a makeshift net.

“It looks like she likes you,” Jongdae grins up at him and Joonmyun smiles helplessly back, the kitten warm and solid in his hands.

-

“Hey Minseok,” he feels bad about interrupting, Minseok’s telling a story about one of his undergrad lectures and Joonmyun is honestly interested, but Minseok’s stop is coming up and he doesn’t know a better time to ask. “Which shelter does Jongdae work at?”

“Oh,” Minseok blinks at him but he doesn’t look surprised by the question. He gives Joonmyun the name as Joonmyun tries to be covert about keying it into his phone. “You’d never be able to tell,” Minseok goes on, glancing away from Joonmyun, “but Jongdae’s really serious about that place, he’s been working there since we were in high school. He went to college for business but then never really did anything with it because he couldn’t bring himself to quit there.” Joonmyun bites at his lips, hoping it isn’t Minseok’s stop every time the doors chime because he wants to hear this. “I mean he has some control now, enough that he was able to get a couple of my grad students part time jobs there, but I know he’d like more say in how the place is run.” Minseok adjusts his bag on his shoulder as the automated conductor’s voice announces his university as next. “I think he’d like to be the director one day,” he grins at Joonmyun, “he’d be good at it. He’s pretty serious when he commits to something.” He raises his eyebrows as he steps off the train, “Vicious like a rabid dog too.”

-

Joonmyun stares at the check in his hands. “Mother, what is this?” It was a long day at work. His cubicle mate Kris’ giant hands are too big for almost all modern technology and one of his thick fingers had accidentally pressed the wrong key and accidentally deleted their entire schedule for the next month, and Joonmyun doesn’t think he has the energy left to deal with the envelope addressed in his mother’s handwriting that had been slipped under his door. Joonmyun adjusts the phone under his ear as he collapses on the sofa. He notices there are tiny little claw marks on the fabric of the legs but he pulls the kitten into his lap automatically, thinking he should probably name her soon. He frowns; no, that’s for whoever’s going to keep her to do. He shakes his head when he realizes his mother is talking to him but he hadn’t processed any of it, “Wait, what?”

“Baekhyunnie tells us you’re living in squalor,” Joonmyun purses his lips and puts the call on speaker for a minute so he can send a text to Baekhyun, _stop talking to my mother_. “Really Joonmyun, think of what it does to me to think about you in those conditions. Just take the money, it can be an early birthday gift of sorts.”

Joonmyun scowls down at the check. He doesn’t need it, he’s doing fine on his own, he’s an adult who can support himself. “It’s not _squalor_ , mother, it’s just…” Joonmyun flounders, “a hole.” He opens his mouth to find a better line of argument, hears his mother take a breath to do the same but then the words stick in his throat as the kitten tires of batting at his fingers and squirms out of his lap to make a break for the hole. He huffs as he plucks her back but it makes him pause. “You’re right,” he offers slowly, contrite, “I’m sorry for making you worry like this, I’ll deposit the money tomorrow.”

There’s a taken aback silence on the other side, his mother sounding genuinely surprised but relieved. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Joonmyun bops the kitten on the nose with his fingertip. He technically isn’t even lying.

-

Joonmyun’s still in his pajamas come noon on Sunday. It’s the kitten’s third day staying with him and he’s relatively sure Jongdae is subtly trying to ease Joonmyun into keeping her, but he can’t say he minds. Her bed fills a corner of Joonmyun’s room that had felt empty even though she’d spent the past two nights curled up on the foot of Joonmyun’s blankets. He’s still adjusting to cleaning litter.

He doesn’t think much of answering the door in his briefs and really by now he shouldn’t be as caught off guard as he is when Jongdae’s on the other side. But it’s more how angry Jongdae looks that surprises Joonmyun. He stands there gaping at Jongdae’s flushed red scrunched up face and realizes maybe he’d made a mistake.

Jongdae shoves Joonmyun in the chest so he’s stumbling back into his own apartment with Jongdae stalking after him and swinging the door shut. Joonmyun thinks he should start apologizing, he can’t imagine what it must seem like from Jongdae’s point of view. He hadn’t attached his name to the check but Joonmyun knows Jongdae isn’t stupid and would’ve easily put the pieces together. A large anonymous donation to his shelter endorsed ‘to the care of Kim Jongdae’ probably wasn’t subtle. But he just wants Jongdae to know he hadn’t meant it in any way as an attempt to buy his affection, thinks of how Jongdae had said he hates owing people things. He’d just wanted… “Jongdae, I-”

“Shut up,” Jongdae cuts off Joonmyun’s stammering, backs him up until Joonmyun’s thighs crowd against the arm of the couch. And then he’s kissing him, hands pulling Joonmyun in with a grip at his collar, soft mouth pressing to Joonmyun’s with an urgent breathy noise. Joonmyun’s frozen through the first few kisses, hands still defensively splayed at his sides, clumsily lipping back just before Jongdae pulls away. Jongdae’s hands slide up to cup the sides of Joonmyun’s neck then pet Joonmyun’s fringe back so he can rest their foreheads together. “I was going to be romantic about this, I really was,” his lips brush against Joonmyun’s as they move, Joonmyun’s eyes going unfocused with Jongdae so close, “but I’m going to blow you now, okay? Take your pants off.”

“Wha-” Jongdae’s hands go for Joonmyun’s waistband when Joonmyun doesn’t immediately do as he’s told. “Wait, wait,” Joonmyun catches Jongdae’s hands but links their fingers together with a squeeze to pacify the flash of uncertainty on Jongdae’s face. He wants this, he just needs to know. “Your friend Yixing…”

“Who?” Jongdae sounds distracted, ducking in to press a kiss to the corner of Joonmyun’s mouth, the edge of his jaw.

“Jongdae.” It sounds pleading even to his own ears. Joonmyun allows himself to catch Jongdae’s mouth for a lingering kiss, exhaling against Jongdae’s cheek.

“What about Yixing? I don’t see how he’s relevant right now.” Jongdae bumps his nose against Joonmyun’s kittenishly then pouts, “Your pants should be off right now, you’re being difficult.”

“I want you,” Joonmyun says it as plainly as he can, doesn’t know how else to get his intentions across without sounding like a fool, “ _want you_ , want you.”

Jongdae eases away at that, giving them space, eyes tracing over Joonmyun’s face. “Is that really what’s been holding you back?” Joonmyun gives a feeble half nod, half shrug. Fingers sneak out to pinch Joonmyun’s side and he squirms. “Seriously?” Jongdae sounds incredulous but fond. “Yixing is a _friend_. If it makes you feel any better we haven’t messed around at all since that night you heard us. I think he might actually be seeing grumpy cat officially now.”

“He’s…” Joonmyun falters, both from the words and because Jongdae’s fingers have started a falsely innocuous crawl down his side to his waistband again, “...dating a cat?”

“What? No,” Jongdae seems to have mostly checked out of the conversation, already halfway to his knees and this time Joonmyun doesn’t stop him, “that’s just what I call Minseok’s undergrad who works at the shelter.”

Joonmyun makes a noise of understanding but he almost chokes on it because Jongdae’s gripping the elastic of his briefs and tugging it down so they slip down under the curve of his ass. Jongdae’s fingers find the base of him and Joonmyun’s shaky hands grip at the fabric of the couch. “I’m going to change the subject now,” Jongdae says, stroking Joonmyun to hardness with slow tugs of his palm and Joonmyun’s toes curling in his socks. Joonmyun nods, mouth slack as he watches Jongdae nuzzle his hipbone. “Like how I know you were there the other night,” Jongdae smirks up at him, noses under the hem of Joonmyun’s shirt to kiss the skin of his belly. “I know you heard me.”

Heat floods through Joonmyun like a punch to the gut. “I- I wasn’t. I don’t…” he feels flayed out and exposed, mortified, but Jongdae’s still fisting him unhurriedly.

“Ah, ah,” Jongdae tuts as his thumb rubs under Joonmyun’s cockhead and Joonmyun’s hips push up into it helplessly, “don’t lie to me, Joonmyun, what a terrible start to our relationship.” Joonmyun’s chest shakes with a laugh despite himself, reaching out and sliding his hand into Jongdae’s hair with his heart in his throat. Jongdae leans into it then turns to lay a kiss to the inside of Joonmyun’s wrist. “Besides, I got off so hard thinking about you sitting there listening, hand on your cock.” He doesn’t let Joonmyun respond to that, just sucks the tip of Joonmyun into his open mouth and bobs his head.

Joonmyun’s breathing goes heavy and panting, Jongdae’s lips dragging against the skin of his cock with a visceral twist, little noises spilling from Joonmyun he can’t quell with his teeth chewing his bottom lip. It doesn’t take long in the wet suck of Jongdae’s mouth, Jongdae swallowing him down until his nose nudges the skin at Joonmyun’s base. One of Joonmyun’s hands finds Jongdae’s shoulder and grips, his own hunched, his hips stuttery and jerking. The fingers he has in Jongdae’s hair tighten as his body racks, Jongdae’s throat working around him.

Jongdae milks him through it, wringing the last of it out of Joonmyun with a corkscrew pump of his wrist. Jongdae’s mouth is slick and puffy but when he pulls off he lays kisses to the skin of Joonmyun’s hipbone, touch skating up Joonmyun’s trembly side. Joonmyun lets his legs go out from under him and sinks to the floor, toppling so he’s on top of Jongdae. They fit together easily, Jongdae’s arms slipping around his neck and Joonmyun’s circling under the small of Jongdae’s back, kissing messily with Jongdae licking into his mouth.

He can feel Jongdae hard and needy with their hips pressed together, a swooping in his belly that having Joonmyun’s cock down his throat is enough to have Jongdae like that. But Jongdae isn’t doing anything about it, just tugging at Joonmyun’s hair for a better angle for their tongues to slide together and gently rubbing up against him. Joonmyun gets a hand between them to palm at Jongdae through his pants and Jongdae mewls into his mouth, hips hitching up as his thigh hooks around Joonmyun’s leg. His body writhes under Joonmyun, going shuddery then still, Joonmyun’s bottom lip raw and bitten between his teeth.

They trade languid kisses and nose at each other on the floor of Joonmyun’s apartment until Joonmyun can feel his elbows aching from holding himself over Jongdae to get at his mouth. He flops to the side onto his back, taking the time to tuck himself back into his briefs, Jongdae’s fingers still playing with the fabric of Joonmyun’s shirt over his tummy. Jongdae nuzzles in so his chin digs into Joonmyun’s shoulder.

Jongdae grins, “So is this where I make a tasteless joke about how I can’t wait for you to fill my hole?” Joonmyun’s body curls as he laughs, burying his face into the skin of Jongdae’s neck, but thinks he probably can’t either.

**Author's Note:**

> now [illustrated](https://twitter.com/preciousjongdae/status/415196221293068289)!


End file.
